Page 57 of Trigger Happy Ending

She knows it.

She’s just trying to make me say it first, and I refuse.

Her fingers tinker with the snowflake necklace around her neck. She does this often. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen her take it off. It’s like the pendant steadies her or is her fucking north star or something.

“Do you ever take that necklace off?”

“No.”

“Who gave it to you?”

The little diamond catches the light as it rests against her bronzed skin.

She sighs through her nose. “My mom.”

“Why do you—”

“No.” She blinks, fast, and lifts her beer to take a swig. “She’s off-limits.”

I think I get it now. The story semi-writes itself. In Raine’s nightmare, she called out for her mom. It doesn’t take a genius to know there’s a tragic story there. Mentioning my past dredges up memories too painful for me to shift from easily too. Most of the time, it’s easier not to talk about. Either way, her story is none of my business.

Just like mine isn’t hers.

Doesn’t mean I can’t admire the beauty of a diamond necklace though.

I close the distance between us. “May I?”

Raine blinks once and nods.

Gently, I lift the tiny snowflake between my thumb and finger and inspect it. It’s beautiful and extremely delicate. It’s amazing it’s not come off on one of her assignments. I lay it back on the warm hollow of her collarbone. She watches me with her whole face open, wide eyes, and parted lips. She shouldn’t be looking at me like that.

“It’s a beautiful necklace.”

“Thank you.”

She palms the chain at her throat, her fingers grazing mine. The movement draws my eyes to them. Her pulse flutters under my touch, her carotid artery beating fast, like a butterfly trapped in a jar.

God, does she always smell so fucking delicious?

You know those salted caramel candles, those large ones in a circular glass, double wicks? She smells like one of those. My eyes slide up to her mouth. I’d walk through fucking fire to feel those lips on mine one more time. The corner of her mouth softens, and I wonder if maybe she’s remembering how electric that kiss on the plane felt too. When we sort of wanted to kill each other. Funny how things change; that’s the last thing I want to do now.

I swallow hard. I need to snap out of it before I do something I regret.

Smirking, I take a lazy step backwards, just enough to pick up the pool cue and break the sexual tension in half. “That was just a warm-up. Now I’m really going to kick your ass.”

I swear I see a flash of disappointment in her eyes. Or maybe I’m going crazy.

***

Half an hour later, and we’re just about ready to leave, when I hear the low growl of engines rumble through the roadhouse walls. Bikers, by the sounds of it. Hopefully not the outlaw kind. The double doors swing open with a crash, followed by a wave of obnoxious laughter, and I see exactly what I didn’t want to see.

The Raptors MC.

An infamous outlaw motorcycle gang, full of ex-cons known for their drug smuggling and standover tactics. And to make it worse, six of the pricks immediately head our way. They stop in front of us, blocking our way out. Raine’s sliding on her leather jacket, unbothered, and tosses me mine as I glide up next to her.

“Hey,” I offer to no one in particular.

There’s no need for violence all the time. I can be civil.